Dark Days of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in Menopause

“It’s hot in here…turn on the fan… It is cold…add another blanket… It’s hot, take the blanket off…” But this is the middle of winter! I can’t make up my mind what temperature feels comfortable. After two years of this I should have driven my husband insane by now, and yet my Dear-heart patiently goes along with my constant temperature changes. “I am flexible, Honey,” is all he ever says to me. I tell you, the man has got to be a saint! He just never complains.

And then there’s my yo-yo dieting, which I always manage to drag my hubby into—though he partners with me on everything: exercise, cooking, and eating. He supports me unconditionally! In the past two years I’ve begun numerous diets, and actually managed to lose 10 pounds here, 14 pounds there. But I cannot seem to stay on a diet longer than 2-3 weeks. And my moods will change drastically, like Jekyll and Hyde. I kid you not here! I will go into a fit of crying if I cannot cook a meal. And then I get angry if I am reminded of my diet. But I am the happiest person on earth in the kitchen…and when I’m eating.

Our early dates were all about eating and enjoying food—together. When we got married, we began our adventures in cooking and eating—together. Dare I say? We are foodies! I tell you this, that I may follow a diet tomorrow. After all, “tomorrow is another day!”

Presently, I am not on a diet. I am living with menopause.

Memories; Food for my soul

Saturday, November 7, 1981, my Knight came to my home to sample his first Latin meal. My hope was to impress him, not only with my family, but with delicious food. A meal of Cuban oxtails, marinated 24-hours in burgundy wine, onion, garlic and capers, and slowly simmered for many hours. After all, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

I was beside myself with anticipation. I felt like a school girl again, in-love, and willing to make a fool of myself. I wanted quality time with him. I hoped that my uneasiness of losing him to the unnamed piranhas at our work place—all hoping to lay claim to this very available, fine-looking and with-a-job established bachelor—would settle. The gears in my head were oiled and rotating and my plans for snaring him with good food were set in motion. All is fair in love and war.

My Knight arrived with punctuality, minus the white stallion. Introductions were made; and I could read on my family’s faces their immediate approval. My Knight ate his oxtails with hungry gusto. Thus the evening progressed like smooth, melted chocolate.

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